We can only know what we can truly imagine. Finally what we see comes from ourselves.

We can only know what we can truly imagine. Finally what we see comes from ourselves.

We seek not rest but transformation. We are dancing through each other as doorways.

There are obviously a great many ways to organize some fraction of the material in a life.

We must shine with hope, stained glass windows that shape light into icons, glow like lanterns borne before a procession. Who can bear hope back into the world but us.

I wrote to make sense out of all the contradictions I experienced and to deal with the pain and loss I was undergoing.

Nobody can live on a bridge or plant potatoes but it is fine for comings and goings, meetings, partings and long views and a real connection to someplace else where you may in the crazy weathers of struggle how and again want to be.